


If You Were My Boyfriend

by DragonGirl87



Series: IF [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Partners, Dirty Talk, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Gay Draco Malfoy, Getting Together, Happy 40th Birthday Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Is In Denial, He Also Fancies Draco, He Just Likes To Deny It, Humour, Inappropriate Use of Last Names, Is He Really Though?, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, Roommates, Sassy Draco Malfoy, So Is Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:07:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24557419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl87/pseuds/DragonGirl87
Summary: "Sequel To My Story "If You Were Gay""Harry is fed up with everyone thinking that he and Draco are an item. Is he going to do anything about it, or is he going to let them talk? Or maybe Draco is finally going to do something about it?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: IF [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787656
Comments: 23
Kudos: 247





	If You Were My Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> **Happy 40th Birthday, Draco Malfoy, this piece of silliness is in honour of your special day, my fellow Gemini and beloved Slytherin**.  
>  ["Sequel To My Story "If You Were Gay""](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305554)
> 
> As always, massive thanks to my wonderful and supportive wife, **CB** for putting up with being ignored for most of the day while I wrote this.

* * *

* * *

“Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, Harry Potter.”

“For the absolute last time, Malfoy isn’t my boyfriend. We are not a couple!”

Potter snarled through gritted teeth and setting his coffee mug down with such venom that its contents spilt all over the table, he straightened up, then thrust his hand out and hexed Fernsby without the slightest bit of warning. Somehow, and much to Draco’s astonishment, Potter, in his rage, had managed to simultaneously cast a Knee-Reversal-Hex and a rather vicious stinging hex.

Fernsby howled in pain, flailed his arms awkwardly, and fell to the ground, kicking and screaming bloody murder.

Draco, who’d up until now been leaning against the kitchenette counter, silently enjoying his overly sweet black coffee, hastily brought his mug up to his lips. Instead of taking a sip from the hot beverage, he smirked into the contents of his cup. He had to bite the inside of his mouth, hard in an attempt to stop himself from laughing.

 _That’s my little lion cup, a force to be reckoned with_ , he thought. His chest swelled with pride, and despite his completely nonchalant expression, and thoroughly relaxed stance, he was gleefully dancing with joy. He watched as Potter stormed across the room with his scarlet Auror robes menacingly billowing behind him. Potter approached the door and yanked it open with a forceful gust of magic, then disappeared through the open door and down the corridor.

Invisible remnants of magic rippled through the room, and Draco felt a shiver travel down the length of his spine. A ball of wild energy, with the potential to arouse him, settled in the pit of his stomach, but Draco paid it no attention, for the time being at least. Usually, he had a love and hate relationship with his sensitivity to Potter’s bold displays of wandless magic. Today, though, he funnily enough, thoroughly welcomed the excitement it stirred up in the centre of his chest. He took several sips of his coffee, then pushed away from the kitchenette counter and straighten up. Unlike Potter, who’d only just come back from a routine field trip, Draco had left his own robes on the wall hook behind his desk in Harry’s and his office.

“Fernsby, Fernsby, when will you learn not to infuriate Potter, eh?” he drawled, infusing his words with as much boredom as he possibly could. He did rather dislike the prat and thought that Potter had given him exactly what the idiot deserved. Still, petty arguments, even if Potter hadn’t instigated them, had no place in the Auror Office.

Since he couldn’t care less about Fernsby’s current predicament, Draco had half a mind to just leave him to cast the counter-curse himself. But since he also didn’t want Potter to get into trouble with upper management for losing his temper, Draco considered it his duty to clean up his partner’s mess. He didn’t particularly delight in the task, but this was Potter, and for Harry, he did an awful lot of things he’d never ever even consider doing for anyone else. He drew his wand with a thoroughly elaborate and an entirely unnecessary flourish of his hand. Wrapping his fingers securely around the hilt of his beloved 10’’ hawthorn wand, he pointed it at Fernsby and reversed Potter’s hex with a non-verbal charm.

“I recommend Star Grass healing salve from the apothecary on Diagon Alley to heal the gigantic purple bruise you’ll undoubtedly have on your behind. Perhaps even a Pain-Numbing Potion or else you’ll never get through that stack of paperwork on your desk, Fernsby.”

With that, Draco strode out of the Auror Department’s tearoom and headed down the corridor. He took a left at the end of it, walked about halfway, then stopped in front of the door to his and Potter’s office. Coffee cup still in hand, he took a sip, then reached out and turned the knob. He pushed the door open to find Potter flat on his back on their exquisite black three-seat leather sofa. He hadn’t bothered taking off his robes or Auror-issued dragonhide boots and whooshing his hand, Draco voiced his disapproval with a loud tsk and used magic to push Harry’s manky boots off the sofa.

Potter, who’d folded his arms underneath his head to form a cushion, spluttered and turned his head to send an icy glare in his direction. His emerald-green eyes sparkled with fury and leaning back against the closed office door, Draco chuckled.

“Cut it out, Potter, you don’t scare me, never have and never will,” he said.

Potter merely growled in response, turned his head away and continued to, presumably, stare a hole into the ceiling of their office, not that he was going to be successful in his endeavour. Then again, Draco didn’t feel the need to point that out to Potter. Somehow, he had the feeling it would only unnecessarily infuriate his partner.

“You know, if you don’t have any objections, we might as well just seal the deal, Potter.”

Potter ignored him for several moments, then turned his head slightly to look at him. A massive frown etched across his entire forehead.

“Seal what deal?”

Draco laughed.

He pushed himself away from the door and walking over to Harry’s office chair, he sat down and stretched his legs out in front of him.

“Oh, come on, there’s no need to be deliberately obtuse now, Potter. You know exactly what I mean.”

Potter blinked, then slowly sat up and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He arched his eyebrow in a silent question.

“What exactly do you mean, Malfoy?”

Draco shrugged.

“Well, if you wanted to snog me regularly, I most certainly wouldn’t be opposed to the matter.”

Potter’s immediate reaction―and Draco had as much as anticipated that―was to look completely outraged.

“What the hell, Malfoy! Not you too! Has the press brainwashed absolutely everyone now? I thought you were my friend!”

Harry spoke with an accusatory undertone and rising to his feet, he walked over to their enchanted office window and stared out over the River Thames. Rays of sunshine glittered in the water and ship after ship travelled up and down England’s longest waterway.

Draco grinned.

“I am. But boyfriend has a much nicer ring to it, don’t you think?”

Harry groaned and banged his forehead against the charmed class in front of him.

Draco couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh, come on, Potter, we’re practically always together, you can’t fault people for getting the wrong idea about us.”

Potter took a moment to digest the words, then slowly turned around and with his eyes narrowed, he glowered at Draco and once again crossed his arms over his chest.

“I might live and work with my best friend, but that doesn’t automatically mean I’m also romantically involved with him!”

Draco chuckled.

“Ah, but would it be so bad if you were?”

Potter frowned at him.

“Things are fine just as they are,” he mumbled.

 _I disagree_ , Draco thought, but instead of voicing his opinion on the matter, he took a couple more sips of his coffee, then glanced over the rim of his cup and smiled at Potter.

“If you say so,” he said with the utmost nonchalance.

Potter continued to frown at him and Draco only barely managed to conceal a smirk.

 _I’ll wear you down; eventually_ , he mused, and pulling his feet back, he lifted them up and placed his calves on top of Potter’s impressive pile of case files. Potter approached him and tried to shove his feet off his desk, but Draco refused to budge.

“Why must you always plant yourself at my desk?”

Draco laughed.

“Because, Potter, the grass is always greener on the other side.”

Potter grumbled something entirely incomprehensible and looking nothing short of cross, he grudgingly walked over to Draco’s desk and sat down behind it. In the meantime, Draco set his coffee mug down on top of Potter’s empty Gryffindor coaster, though not without frowning at it.

Leaning back in Potter’s rather comfortable leather office chair, Draco summoned the case file that lay open on his desk and began to peruse his earlier notes. He did that while resolutely trying his best not to allow Potter to distract him. The fact that Potter kept staring at him didn’t exactly make things easy, but somehow, Draco managed to pretend that he was entirely engrossed in his latest incident report.

The strange but amicable silence between him and Potter lasted for nearly forty-five minutes, then Potter’s resolve finally broke. Draco struggled to resist the temptation to commend Potter on his ever-increasing patience. It wasn’t something that came naturally to Potter but given how much time they spent together it had become something of a forced habit. Depending on the situation, the levels of Potter’s self-restrained varied considerably. The fact that he’d managed to brood for the better part of an hour impressed Draco, not that he was about to share that sentiment with Potter.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

To say that Potter’s question startled Draco was the understatement of the century. No longer able to focus on the neat handwriting in his report, or take in any of the information the file contained, Draco slowly lifted his head and turned it sideways to look at Potter. It took him every ounce of self-control to remain unfazed and retain his signature sass.

“My, Potter, are you finally asking me to make things official?”

Potter growled, grabbed the nearest item of stationery―it happened to be a notepad―and flung it across the room and into the general direction of Draco’s head.

With a somewhat dirty smirk, Draco raised his hand in the air, slowed the offending item down until it hovered right above Potter’s desk, then plucked the notepad right out of the air.

“You know exactly what I mean, Malfoy!”

Draco titled his head a little further to the side.

“Do I?” he asked.

Potter nodded.

Draco chuckled.

He did rather enjoy baiting Potter and the fact that he always fell for it made it even sweeter.

“If you want to know whether I fancy you or not, who the fuck doesn’t? Have you seen yourself lately?”

Potter had the decency to flush a little and coughing to cover up his embarrassment, he shifted in Draco’s chair.

“Do you― Do you― Stop messing with me already, Malfoy.”

Draco smiled.

“Who says I’m messing with you, Harry? You are fucking sex on legs, and you know it too.”

“You do fancy me then.”

Draco shrugged.

“I see no reason to deny it. It’s no news to you either, though. I’ve told you often enough.”

Potter’s eyes widened slightly. It was as if realisation had finally dawned on him and he at long last understood that Draco had always been serious about his feelings. Potter opened his mouth as if to say something, then seemingly changed his mind and shook his head.

“We’re good the way we are, aren’t we?” he asked quietly. “It’s a solid deal.”

Potter’s question was entirely rhetorical in nature, but that didn’t stop Draco from replying anyway.

“Solid deal or not, this partnership could use a bit of sugar and spice.”

Potter frowned.

“Why ruin a good thing?”

Draco smiled.

“Why not make it a better thing? Or are you scared, Potter?”

Potter locked thoroughly affronted.

“I’m not scared, Malfoy.”

Draco smirked.

“Got to love it when you spit my name through gritted teeth like that. Although I could think of something much better to do with that pretty mouth of yours.”

Potter sputtered indignantly.

“I’m not giving you a blowjob, Malfoy! You’re such filth.”

Draco threw his head back, laughing. It took him a full minute before he managed to control himself and bringing his hands up, he wiped tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes.

“I was thinking about a nice long snog, Potter, not a blowjob, but if you’re offering, I’m not going to say no.”

Potter rose to his feet with such force that Draco’s office chair collided with the wall behind it.

“I wasn’t offering, and I’m not going to offer!”

Draco pretended to pout.

“Pity, I think you’d be absolutely spectacular at giving head. There’s just something about those lips―”

Draco deliberately trailed off but watched Potter’s face like a hawk. There was a definite spark of interest, and he couldn’t help but wonder whether Potter might be brave enough to push a couple of boundaries.

Despite allowing a few minutes of silence to pass between them, Potter did not disappoint.

“What is it about my lips?” he asked.

Draco smiled.

 _Gotcha_ , he thought.

“Well, Potter, where should I start? They look marvellously soft, and something tells me you’d know how to apply just the right amount of suction to make it so, so good. I reckon you’d be a fast learner too. And then there’s always the thrill of seeing you on your knees―”

“You’ve seen me on my knees plenty of times…” Potter mumbled in response.

His voice was soft and breathy, and Draco rather liked the effect he was having on his friend and partner.

“But never with my hard cock sheathed inside your mouth and my fingers tightly twisted in your hair, holding you in place like the good boy I know you’d be for me, Harry.”

In response to his filthy description, Potter blushed crimson and Draco chuckled softly.

“We’ve done it all, Potter, might as well just throw in the sex and call it a done deal. The weekend is coming up, you know I’d fuck you so good.”

“You really want this, don’t you?”

Potter’s voice remained low and husky.

Draco thoroughly delighted in it.

“Don’t you, Harry?” he asked.

Potter coughed and cleared his throat, then looked away. For a while, his gaze wandered around the room, but eventually, it settled on his and Draco’s Auror Academy certifications. They’d both passed with flying colours, and after they’d moved into this office together, Draco had insisted on framing them and putting them up on the wall. For a while, Potter had repeatedly taken them down. He’d only stopped after Draco had applied a permanent sticking charm to the back of both frames.

“You take your coffee with three sugars and your tea with a sprinkle of fresh lemon juice,” he said quietly.

Draco nodded.

“Astute observation, Potter.”

Potter scoffed but didn’t otherwise acknowledge Draco’s affectionate little dig.

“Instead of getting up for breakfast, no matter how elaborate, you prefer to sleep in on Saturday mornings, and there’s nothing that will ever make you give up chocolate and sugar quills.”

Draco smiled.

He reached for his lukewarm coffee and finished it off in three sips.

 _So, you do pay attention_ , he thought.

“You detest clutter, you love to relax in front of the fireplace and read a good book, you’d love to fill Grimmauld Place with a litter of kneazle kittens, though you’d murder me if I ever told anyone about your soft, paternal side, you value honesty above all, falsity does not impress you, in fact, you see right through it with just about anyone, you’re secretly in love with Muggle television dramas, but you’ll deny any knowledge of it if anyone asks, you’ve quite the green thumb when it comes to keeping our― _your_ ―potted plants alive, you’d love a chance to overhaul Britain’s outdated Wizarding laws, and you never really hated me.”

Closing the open, but abandoned, case file in his lap, Draco discarded it on Potter’s desk and getting up, he rounded walked over to Potter.

“How is it that you’re so good at pretending to be a complete scatterbrain when you actually notice absolutely everything that’s going on around you?” he asked.

Potter chuckled.

He shrugged.

“I like you,” he said.

“Just like?”

“Perhaps there’s a smidgen of attraction there.”

“Friendly or sexual?”

“What do you think?”

“Well, put it this way, if I lean in and plant a kiss on your lips, are you going to hex my balls to the North Pole or are you going to reciprocate?”

Potter grinned.

His eyes twinkled with mischief.

“If I didn’t do it before, I’m not going to do it now.”

Draco laughed.

He took another step forward and leaning forward he brought his lips within inches of Potter’s.

“You know that the entire department is betting on when we’re finally getting our act together, don’t you?”

Potter chuckled.

“Those dunderheads are always betting about something or other.”

Draco huffed out a breath of warm laughter and delighted in the visible tremor that surged through Potter.

“I’ve got it on good authority that the Weasel stands to gain a thousand galleons if we kiss on my birthday.”

“Are you ever going to stop calling him that?”

Draco smirked.

“Never, Potter.”

“Harry.”

“Harry.”

This time it wasn’t a slight tremor that surged through Potter but a proper shudder.

“Fuck,” he mumbled.

Draco grinned.

“Later, Potter, I promise. We’ve got a long weekend coming up, and I intend to use up an entire pot of lube shagging you six ways to Sunday.”

“Who says I’m going to let you shag me? Maybe I’d like to shag you…”

“Semantics, Potter, semantics. Besides, something tells me that you’re the receiving type.”

“Draco Mal―”

“Oh, shut up already, Potter.”

“Make me.”

Draco didn’t say anything in response to that. Instead, he grabbed a fistful of Potter’s shirt and his Auror robes, pulled him close and kissed him soundly and with determination.

Harry didn’t resist, not even in the slightest. Instead, he moved closer, parted his lips, and boldly invited Draco in. It didn’t take long for their kiss to turn ferocious and it took every ounce of Draco’s willpower to stop himself from bending Potter over his desk and taking him right here and now. As much as the idea appealed to him, he didn’t want their first time to be a frenzied fuck in their office. That was something he intended to save for further down the line and after spending a couple of hours blatantly teasing Potter until he could no longer stand the uncomfortable tightness of his trousers.

* * *

* * *


End file.
